


Happy Holigays

by madina



Series: N.B.GAY. [1]
Category: Men's Basketball RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coming Out, Crack, F/F, Fluff, Holidays, Implied Relationships, M/M, Multi, Queer Themes, established relationships - Freeform, nbgay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28893063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madina/pseuds/madina
Summary: The queer athletes of the NBA and WNBA have an annual tradition of somebody throwing a holiday party where only queer folk are allowed.
Relationships: Anthony Davis/LeBron James, CJ McCollum/Damian Lillard, DeMar DeRozan/Kyle Lowry, Diana Taurasi/Penny Taylor, Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook, Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson, Sue Bird/Megan Rapinoe
Series: N.B.GAY. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118921
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Happy Holigays

**Author's Note:**

> AU where COVID-19 doesn't exist and openly queer NBA players do.

It’s Kyle and DeMar’s turn to host the annual Happy Holigays party and it’s their first real party since they got engaged. It was a newer tradition among the queer athletes of the NBA and WNBA. It started with Steph and Klay about five years ago and everybody had such a great and memorable time with their friends and community that they voted to continue the event.

It was such a hit that the straight players tried barging in just so they could make Instagram posts with some of the biggest athletes in the world that just so happened to be queer and wanted to celebrate it. They were barred though. This was a time for queer men, women and otherwise to come together into a safe, loving and inclusive environment. Where they could be openly affectionate with their partners and celebrate another glorious year of being queer in basketball. This was pertinent during the holidays where some of the players didn’t have families that were supportive, especially the younger ones. 

Klay and Steph’s party was hard to live up to since it was the original but each year the parties got more lavish, stylish and better than the year before. Diana Taurasi and her wife, Penny Taylor threw last year’s and now it was their turn. It was something everybody looked forward to every year and they didn’t want to disappoint. 

Kyle and DeMar weren’t set on a theme but the vibe. They weren’t big on party planning so they hired somebody to do that for them with an emphasis on good food, good liquor, good music and good vibes. Nobody should have to stress coming to their party. They were from Compton and North Philly, they weren’t about to do formal. 

Kyle and DeMar began making their rounds. “Hey guys, there’s an open bar with _all_ the good shit.” Kyle grins cheekily. “There’s also apple juice for the youngins.” 

DeMar rubs his knuckles over Trae Young’s scalp. “We also got chocolate milk if you don’t like juice.” 

Trae scowls and swipes at DeMar’s hand that’s gone in for another at his head. “I’m 22, assholes!”

“Are you sure?” Kyle narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I’m gonna have to see some I.D.”

Trae sputters in disbelief as CJ McCollum takes the drink out of his hand. “Are you serious!? This isn’t funny, guys!”

Kyle holds out his hand expectantly. “Hand it over, kid. Or enjoy your apple juice.”

CJ, Dame, DeMar and Kyrie are in varied stages of laughter at Trae’s expense. Kyle is grinning madly at Trae’s face, which is getting redder by the minute. 

“Why don’t you just Google me?!” Trae demands. “It says my age as soon as it loads!”

Kyle barely pats his pants. “Damn, can’t see to find my phone.”

Trae growls, the apples of his cheeks red and he yanks out his wallet from his back pocket and unfolds it, then nearly shoves it in Kyle’s hand. “There, you see?”

“Aye, babe.” Kyle gestures for DeMar to come closer. “How old is somebody who’s born in 1998?” 

Trae closes his eyes and groans. “Oh my god. Y’all can’t do basic math!?”

DeMar looks at Trae’s driver’s license, considers Trae’s ID picture and grins. “Aw, lil baby’s all grown up now.”

The rest of the guys engulf the sputtering 22-year-old with coos, cheek pinches, head scratches and hugs until he’s whining from all the attention and blushing hotly. “You guys are the worst.” He growls playfully, smacking away Dame’s fingers from his shoulders. 

Dame places a loud kiss, exaggerating the smacking noise, on Trae’s red right cheek and squeezes his waist. “You love us, lil baby.”

Trae can’t help the giggle that escapes his mouth, especially at the absurdity of these guys who’ve adopted him as their pansexual little brother. “Yeah, yeah. Fuck y’all.”

CJ’s eyes are warm with affection at Dame and Trae exchanging hugs. “Here’s your drink, lil baby.”

Trae takes the bottle of beer from CJ quickly and pointedly takes a large gulp. “Y’all the reason I’m losing my hair.” 

Kyle and DeMar leave Trae to be ganged up by Dame, Kyrie and CJ making the best and worst balding jokes. They see some of the WNBA ladies congregating by one of the ice sculptures, namely the ice luge and laughing about something or other. 

“Hi ladies, how’s it going?” Kyle asks and he’s greeted with smiles from Sue Bird, her fianceé Megan Rapinoe, Diana Taurasi and her wife Penny Taylor who were sitting down on couches. “I just wanted to let y’all know that we’ve got an open bar, a dessert bar, and some holiday goodie bags for youse to take home with you.”

DeMar places a soft kiss on Sue’s cheek while congratulating her on her newest championship. Megan is beaming with ridiculous pride and waves at DeMar but is lovingly staring at her future wife. 

Kyle coos over pictures of Leo, Penny and Diana’s son, and his little Phoenix Mercury jersey and baby Kobes. “You teachin’ the lil man about drip, already?”

Diana laughs delightedly. “You gotta start them young.”

Penny rolls her eyes. “She takes his ‘drip’ very seriously.” She makes quotation marks with her fingers.

Diana gasps, placing a hand over her heart dramatically. “And you don’t?”

The couple begins to bicker like an old married couple, pulling cackles from Kyle as Penny is exasperated about how many pairs of Kobes and Jordans Diana insists a toddler needs. 

“I can’t even front. DeMar and I would have our kids looking fly as fuck with all the drip.” Kyle grins. “DeMar wouldn’t be able to resist spoiling them.” He looks over to his fiancé, who spoils his nieces and nephews. 

Diana looks over to her wife smugly, crossing her arms triumphantly. Penny immediately lifts a finger and says. _“No._ A toddler does not need a closet full of clothes, Diana!” She already knows she’s fighting a losing battle because Diana’s already pulling out her phone to shop online.

Kyle leaves the squabbling wives to their devices and takes a couple of sips of his watered down drink. He looks over the party and is happy to see so many of their friends could make it even though they had games in various cities across the country and families of their own. 

He smiles as he sees DeMar listening to Brittney Griner, a teammate of Diana’s, and Sue talking about the new deal the players union agreed with the league and that it was a great first step. Sue, one of the vice presidents of the player’s union, was speaking adamantly about the contract negotiations and specific content within the deal, while Brittney and DeMar listened intently. He could only imagine how a conversation between Kyrie and Sue would go. DeMar was incredibly supportive of the WNBA, much like his late idol Kobe Bryant, and being really good friends with Sue only encouraged his support. It wouldn’t surprise him if DeMar wanted a daughter he could pass on all his knowledge to and teach the forgotten artform that is the midrange shot. 

“So this is where everybody’s at?” Russ announces his presence, with Kevin beside him and underneath Kevin’s ridiculously long arm. Everybody gets up from their seats and abandons their conversations to greet them.

Kevin immediately begins harassing DeMar about his three-point shot. DeMar sends Kyle a look asking for help. Kyle obliges, wrapping his arm around DeMar’s waist and pulling him to safety in his arms. “You really don’t want him shooting threes, do you, Kev? Be careful what you wish for.”

“Aye!” DeMar pinches Kyle on the ass, making him yelp loudly. “Too many guys are shooting threes and bricking them because they all think they can be the next Steph Curry and wanna be on House of Highlights.” 

Kevin grimaces, probably picturing DeMar’s shooting form and how there’re guys who are getting way too much freedom when it comes to perimeter shooting. “I’ll give you the number to my shooting coach. The game’s not the same anymore and you can’t be getting left behind because you’re pigheaded.”

DeMar’s face is so comical because he’s offended that Kevin has the nerve to call _him_ pigheaded and touched that Kevin Durant would offer him the services of his trusted shooting coach because he cares enough about DeMar’s success and relevancy in their league. 

“Does that mean I’ll develop a three-point shot like yours?” DeMar quirks an eyebrow quizzically.

Kevin laughs manically. “Fuck no! But at least you can knock down an open shot when defenses dare you to shoot.”

Kyle snickers, DeMar reaches over to tickle his side and pulls him closer when Kyle tries to escape. 

“Are Steph and Klay here?” Kevin’s eyes scan the club for his former teammates. “I haven’t seen them since their wedding. Been rehabbing for the past year.” 

“All three of you were injured last year.” Kyle grimaces. The league just wasn’t the same when those three weren’t playing. But the fact they all went down in the same summer was ridiculous and scary. “It was good they had their wedding when they did because if they waited, it would’ve been ugly.”

“They aren’t here yet.” DeMar answers Kevin’s question directly. “Neither is Bron. They said they’d be here around nine or ten.”

Kevin nodded his head and checked his watch. “Soon, then.” 

“Kyrie’s here.” Kyle says. “So’s Dame and CJ.”

“Yeah, we ran into them by the bar.” Kevin responds, raising his glass. “Can’t believe Trae’s old enough to drink now.”

“Right!?” Kyle laughs. “Lil baby’s all grown up now! First All-Star game selection and everything.” 

“That was a no brainer.” Kevin rolls his eyes. “He’s tearing the league apart. Russ and I catch Hawks games whenever we can. His passing has improved so much.”

“He and Luka are ridiculous.” Kyle leans on DeMar. “The future, man.”

Kevin grins. “One of my prodigy’s looks so good in New Orleans.”

“He looks just like you from behind.” DeMar smirks, knowing it'll rile Kevin up. 

Kevin looks so outraged and is about to respond but his boyfriend shows up and grabs both of his hands. “Dance with me, babe.” Russ bats his eyelashes and Kevin’s powerless to deny him.

The DJ has decided to change the music from just vibing to dance music and picks the perfect song to start.

“This is how we do it!” 

Nearly everybody rushes to the dancefloor, drinks and cigars in their hands while Montell Jordan’s voice rings from the speakers. Kevin walks behind Russell, his hands up and his eyes on Russ’ ass following gingerly behind him before they find their spot on the floor and he moves his hands to Russ’ hips.

Dame and CJ are singing the lyrics together, their eyes never straying from each other as they occupy a space that is away from the dancing and grinding couples in the center.

Kyle and DeMar are facing each other, their bodies far enough to do a one-two step but intimately close where they can touch each other’s faces. DeMar reaches down to kiss Kyle, his smile wide and exuberant and Kyle returns a cheesy grin. 

There’s some wolf whistling and the culprit is Russ grinding his fine ass into Kevin, who is biting his lip to contain his smile. Russ leans forward to back his ass up into Kevin’s crotch. 

DeMar and Kyle can’t quite look away from the scene because Russ’ moves are mesmerizing. He’s one of the better dancers of the group, so light on his feet and has natural swag and confidence. They also find Kevin’s attempts to stop blushing utterly hilarious.

“Aye, look who’s finally here!” Dame yells over the loud music, gathering everybody’s attention.

It’s Steph and Klay and they immediately join the fray of dancing couples. The song’s changed to ‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe and Ashanti. Steph blows kisses to Kyrie, Kyle and Sue and hugs whoever he can reach. Klay sends nods to everybody he possibly can and daps anybody he can touch but his attention is brought back to Steph when his husband pulls him down for a languid kiss.

This comes as to no surprise considering Steph and Klay are in their newlywed phase and they can hardly keep their hands off each other. It only got worse when they both got injured and had to take it easy. 

Nearly everybody was here. DeMar and Kyle exchanged smiles as they danced together. “We did aight, didn’t we?” He’s referring to the party.

DeMar’s smile is the one just for Kyle. “Yeah, I think we aight.”

His words are poignant, if simple. Kyle knows what DeMar means when he says that. They’ve done alright for themselves. They get to play the game they love and have each other. They have their friends and this new family they’ve gained by playing professional basketball. The room is filled with light, love and acceptance. 

“Hey, did you know Bron was bringing somebody?” DeMar asks, his eyes squinting to see who was beside Bron in this dim lighting. His eyes strain for a bit with the bright lights of the clublights but he can make out another body next to LeBron.

Kyle can barely hear DeMar. “What?” He shouts over the music. “I can’t hear you, babe!”

DeMar turns Kyle’s head so he doesn’t have to repeat himself. Kyle’s confused by the movement but trusts DeMar so he allows it. Kyle’s eyes widen when he sees LeBron, who lifts his arm and waves. 

“Is that AD?” Kyle’s eyes are as wide as saucers. He grabs DeMar’s arm and tugs him away from the dancefloor. “I can’t believe he’s gonna make me look like such a dick.”

DeMar grimaces. The first rule of the annual Happy Holigays party was _no_ straight people, including family, friends and teammates. This party was a safe space for the queer folk of the NBA and WNBA and they wouldn’t hesitate to kick out the uninvited guests. It took almost a year for Kyrie to forgive Dame and CJ for telling him that just because his sister was an incredible ally, it didn’t mean she could be here. 

“Hey Bron.” Kyle forces a jovial smile. DeMar’s smile is so similar to the Chrissy Teigen cringe meme that he’s better off just mean mugging. “What’s he doing here? You know the rules.”

Kyle genuinely liked Anthony Davis but he was going to be treated like an unwanted guest for infringing on their space. It was better to cut the bullshit and rip the bandaid off before it got blown out of proportion.

LeBron looked ready to argue with Kyle, especially because of his harsh tone. 

But he was interrupted by his teammate linking their fingers together.

“Yeah, we know.” AD began, his mouth dry and swallowing down the lump in his throat. His heart was racing in his chest and his palms began to sweat. “I’m with him.”

DeMar’s jaw dropped and Kyle froze in shock. Neither of them could get a word out. 

“I’m with Bron… romantically.” AD over-explains, but it’s clear that he is mustering up so much bravery and is so scared of what this all means. “I love him.”

Kyle’s heart melts when he sees AD’s biting his lip nervously. It’s clear that this is the first time he’s told somebody out loud. This is his public coming out. 

LeBron’s eyes are filled with so much love and affection. His brown eyes speak volumes: _I love you and I’m so proud of you. I love you and you are so damn brave._

AD turns his head to look back at LeBron, his eyes desperately seeking for approval from the older man. His eyes ask so many questions: Is this alright? Am I doing this right? Do I need to say something else? 

Kyle can’t help it. He pushes forward and wraps his arms around AD’s ridiculously long torso and gives him a tight hug. DeMar follows and places a hand on Anthony’s shoulder, squeezing the muscles there. 

Kyle rubs his hand up and down his back, his face on his abdomen. He pulls his face away so he can look up at the terrified young man. “Thank you for coming. You are more than welcome to stay. As long as you want.” He and DeMar take a few steps back so AD has room to breathe.

AD’s shy, happy smile is an incredibly precious thing and Kyle identifies how easily LeBron must’ve fallen because _wow._ The smile is perfectly accentuated by his beard, full lips and perfectly sculpted unibrow. His big brown eyes are glassy, so used to rejection that he doesn’t know how to process acceptance yet. But he’s getting there. 

“Thank you.” LeBron clears his throat, hoping to get rid of the choked up sound but so grateful for his friends. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” DeMar says. “We always welcome one of our own.” 

AD and LeBron exchange a look. LeBron’s eyes are alight with _I told you they’d love you, baby. But I understand your fears._ He leans up to place a sweet kiss on AD’s mouth, with Anthony reaching up to tentatively cradle his lover’s neck. They pull away, looking into each other’s eyes and there’s tears rolling down Anthony’s cheeks, which LeBron wipes away with his thumb.

Kyle’s eyes fill with tears and DeMar is not so far behind. This is their first public display of affection and they are honored to witness their love. They’ve must’ve been dating over the course of the last NBA season, and loving each other in secret until Anthony was ready to come out. 

The dance floor has long been abandoned and the music has changed to something softer, not as loud as the dance music. They circle around LeBron James and Anthony Davis. There is an abundance of shock, nobody expecting to see them together here. 

“I _knew_ it!” Steph announces gleefully. “I told you, babe!” 

Klay chuckles and nods at his zealous husband. “You certainly did.”

Anthony clears his throat, embarrassed. “What’d he tell you?”

“That you’re one of us!” Dame wraps his arm around CJ’s shoulders. 

“And that LeBron’s type isn’t short and thick point guards.” Russ sticks his tongue out at his longtime friend. LeBron just shrugs, reconnecting he and Anthony’s fingers. 

“Really?” Kevin looks down at his partner curiously, not quite believing that Russ predicted that. “How’d you figure that?” 

“Because he had one of the finest point guards on his team and wanted nothing to do with him.” Kyrie states, as if it was obvious. “It was either that or he was straight.”

“What can I say?” LeBron steps away from AD, leaning on his back leg but not releasing his lover’s hand and blatantly checking him out. “Can you blame me?” He laughs when AD winks at him. 

“This is such an unexpected, but welcome, surprise.” Kyle steers the conversation to something less ridiculous. “And now that you guys are out in the open?”

LeBron and AD spare each other a glance. It’s Anthony that nods his head, a cool and collected expression graces his face. 

Kyle spares no suspense. “Guess who’s hosting next year’s party!?” 

  
  
  



End file.
